


i'm a bit of confused (you're a bit of a mess)

by softouches



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bang Chan is Whipped, M/M, and chan has a thing for nerdy boys, as always tbh, but more like art galleries?, but still nice pall, felix is a NERD, felix is a bit cocky, forgive me pls, i can't fluff, i cringed at myself writing this, idk it's really cheesy i'm sorry, if that makes sense, kind of, tension?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softouches/pseuds/softouches
Summary: When Chan finds out that the boy – Felix, as professor refers to him –  works as a mediator in one of the local galleries he understands two things. On the one hand, he has a chance to actually approach the boy and not make a complete fool of himself. But there is one interesting nicety.Chan understands nothing about modern art. But here he is, at ten in the morning, standing in the middle of art gallery, just because cute boy smiled at him at the lecture and talked in smart language.or: Chan has a thing for nerdy boys and Lee Felix happened to be one
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Comments: 8
Kudos: 160





	i'm a bit of confused (you're a bit of a mess)

**Author's Note:**

> blame the dead romanticist in me. (and chanlix being so damn loud)
> 
> note 1: mediator in galleries (usually where there is a free pass) is like a person in charge of explaining stuff of the exhibition, usually in modern art galleries  
> note 2: [the regrettes - has it hit you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVwc6wxxWxU)
> 
> enjoy ( i hope) <3

“So, tell me, hyung,” Hyunjin stretches out the words slowly, rolling them out on his tongue. “What are we doing here, in freaking art gallery, at 10 am in the morning on Sunday?”

Chan gulps. “Trying to appreciate the essence of modern art?” The statement sounds more like a question with the way his own voice rises at the end.

Hyunjin stares back at Chan as if his hair became green right in front of his eyes: confused and dumbfounded. “Last time I brought you here you told me that this ‘thing’,” Hyunjin highlights the last word with quotations, “doesn’t even deserve to be called art. So do tell me, hyung,” he crosses arms on his chest. “What has drastically changed all of a sudden and you brought me here, and does it have to do something with a recent crush of yours?”

Chan grasps onto the locker of the checking room, dragging his nails along the metal. The truth is, he can’t completely comprehend why the hell he brought Hyunjin here – out all of the places – in the morning, completely wrecking his own plans for a good sleep.

Or maybe he can.

It all started not that long time ago, approximately two weeks into studying. Chan had just started his new term, excited but somehow already tired, as keeping up with two majors was a confusing and complicated task with the way he sprints from one end of the campus to another, not having a proper time for some stupid crushes, leaving alone visiting art galleries on his rightfully earned weekends.

Everything changes during one particular morning class. It sounds somehow interesting – practical psychology – implying that they will be doing something somehow useful. But instead, Chan is greeted with a lecturer’s monotonous voice, that lulls him into immediately as he rests his head on the table. And Chan isn’t really complaining as he is getting his earned sleeping time at least somewhere.

But then he feels a gentle tapping against his shoulder. Chan really tries to ignore it, but it is quite determined and consistent, so with an annoyed look he turns around to look at the person sitting behind him.

At that moment Bang Chan saw an angel.

Well, maybe angel was a little bit of exaggeration, but Chan was sure the boy in front of him just can’t be human. His hair is blonde, a bit closer to warm, yellow gradation, and his eyes are so bewitching that Chan can’t help but feel as he nearly drowns in them. His lips are also full and plump, gliming with something that looks like lipstick under the lights.

“Do you have a pen by any chance?”

If Chan could he would give the boy every piece of stationary in the world, but unfortunately, his tight budget doesn’t allow him to do that for now.

The boy’s voice strikes Chan as an electric shock, sending small shivers down his spine. He mumbles something illegible, taking his backpack and pulling out a pink-cloured pen to give it to the boy. The latter nods with a smile, mouthing ‘thank you’ and Chan can’t help but stare as his lips move in tact.

After the lecture is over, Chan is clutching on the returned pen like his life depends on it, holding it to the heart tightly, feeling as warmth is blooming somewhere in his chest. Since then, morning classes became something exciting, and something that Chan actually anticipated, his eyes unintentionally following the boy everywhere he goes.

But the best thing about him is not even his looks – though they are impressing, of course. The way he talks absorbs Chan completely, manoeuvring its way right under his skin. The boy is smart, unbelievably smart, and somehow it makes something to Chan’s heart, clenching tightly every time the boy speaks.

When he finds out that the boy – Felix, as professor refers to him – works as a mediator in one of the local galleries he understands two things. On the one hand, he has a chance to actually approach the boy and not make a complete fool of himself. But there is one interesting nicety.

Chan understands nothing about modern art. But here he is, at ten in the morning, just because a cute boy smiled at him at the lecture and talked in smart language.

“Maybe I want to broaden my horizons,” Chan suggest meekly, following Hyunjin further into the gallery.

“And it has nothing to do with Felix,” Hyunjin sighs, searching for something through his pockets. “I will go get us some coffee, you’re practically a walking zombie,” he observes him from head to toes. “You can start with the first hall on your own, I will catch up.”

With that Chan watches as Hyunjin goes down the ladder, fiddling his own fingers in nervous motion. From the corner he can see some parts of exhibits – TVs and parts of furniture, designed in quite quaint manner. With a heavy heart, Chan steps into the room, looking around. It is submerged almost in complete darkness, being illuminated only by the images from the projector hanging down the ceiling. Chan catches as random words are flashing on the screen: way, name, answer. The phrases quickly change each other, not really allowing the boy to catch the main sense.

“Do you want me to help you?”

As he turns around, it’s feels like the most cliché thing to ever happen, Felix’s fragile figure coming into view. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

Well, maybe, he did, as he asked Jisung to find out the boy’s working schedule, but still, Chan feels like he’s a main character of the drama as he stares back at Felix, his small figure covered by dim lights of the gallery.

“Oh, wait,” Felix’s eyes light up in an obvious recognition, making Chan gulp nervously. “You’re from my practical psychology class, right? The guy with a pink pen?”

_What a perfect way to be remembered, Bang Chan._

“Yeah,” he replies sheepishly, hiding hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Chan feels a bit out of place here wearing it, looking at Felix’s neatly styled clothes and hair. “I’m Chris-Chan. I’m Chan,” he thanks all the music production gods for submerging this room into the darkness as his face starts to feel extremely hot.

But Felix just smiles back, catching him of guard. “Didn’t know you’re keen on modern art, Chan.” The name sounds smooth and deep on Felix’s tongue and Chan thinks he wants to record it and put it on repeat for years.

As Felix bites down on his lower lip, hands locked behind his back Chan realizes that the boy is waiting for his reply. “Yeah, right,” he gives out a forced smile. “Art. Modern art, I’m a big fan!”

_No, you’re a big liar, Chris._

“Oh,” Felix’s eyebrows rise up in surprise. “I could never tell. But that’s so cool!” The boy beams, sparkles literally dripping from his eyes and Chan feels as his knees go weak and something painfully swells inside, yet it somehow feels so good. “You probably don’t need my help then--,”

“No!” Chan shouts, and his voice echoes through the empty room. The guard at the entrance looks at him suspiciously, and Chan tries to give him a reassuring nod. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “it’s always nice to hear elaborate opinions.” _Elaborate opinions? Can you even say it like that?_ Chan shuts his eyes close while clenching fists inside of his hoodie.

Felix laughs, throwing his head back a little, and Chan decides that it’s the most comforting sound in the world. “I get you, I also try to read a lot before going to exhibitions,” the boy replies, coming a bit forward and gesturing with one hand to follow him.

Chan catches as the guard behind them shoots a sly smile in their direction.

*

The room they are entering is dark as well. The walls are painted in slick black, which makes it really satisfying to look at, and, once again, the place is illuminated only by images from the TVs hanging on the walls. They are showing some kind of scientific object, surrounded with thick layer of snow. And the projections of snow are everywhere on the walls, and Chan feels shivers going down his arms, as if he’s actually standing in the cold.

That’s why he’s not that fond of modern art. Rather than something beautiful and enjoyable, the installations usually wake something strange and unpleasant in him, evoking odd emotions inside.

“The installation is called Chambers of Radiance,” Felix stops in the middle of the room. “The artist tried to depict dreams through post-human mythologies imagined through the modes and materials of contemporary science,” he pauses to point at the image on one of the TVs, but it’s hard for Chan to look away from the boy. Not only it’s pleasant to observe him, but his voice, and his manner of presenting information makes something to Chan’s heart as he feels completely enchanted by the moment.

Maybe he has a thing or two for nerdy boys. Just Maybe.

“It is a meditation on the ruins of humanity as seen from a distant future,” Felix continues, tracing his fingers along the screen. “You see the water near the snow, right?” Chan nods at that, trying to stay focused. “A future beyond reckoning drifts into view, where our advanced technology has become wreckage at the bottom of the ocean. it's the feeling like when you sunk into the sea, and beyond into underworlds, it dives into deep time, from the cosmic and geologic to the ecological and political, showing us secret places and the otherwise invisible structures that hide there.”

Okay, Chan understands that he definitely has a thing for nerdy boys. “That’s so hot,” he blurts out, but everything feels like a trance. Only when Felix turns his gaze to him, full of confusion, with his eyebrows knitted, his cheeks red and flushed. “I mean it’s hot in here,” he clears his throat, suddenly interested in the projector hanging from the ceiling. “So hot in here.”

“Really?” Felix asks, turning around. “That’s so strange, we have AC turned on, for better experience,” he mumbles, but more to himself, it seems. “Do you want me to check it?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Chan reassures him quickly. Anything for Felix not to shut up. Ever. “That sounds so interesting!” He exclaims, hoping it doesn’t sound as faux as it seems.

Felix’s eyes turn into slits, and Chan silently starts to panic, but then the boy just shrugs. “You really are excited about this,” he says cautiously. “I wonder what you are thinking about.”

 _You. I’m thinking about you._ His brain screams desperately. Chan shuts it quickly, putting on a smile. “I love all the _… snow_ ,” he says the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Snow?” Felix repeats, huffing a laugh.

“Snow,” Chan confirms, watching as Felix’s fingers rest on the snow hill depicted on the screen.

It feels like the whole world stops with the way Felix looks at him, room submerging into a mere silence, only screeching sounds from speakers filling it in. “Snow is cool,” he whispers, but the glitches in his eyes says he implies a different message.

Or Chan’s so-in-love mind is imagining it.

“Here you are!” Chan hears the footsteps behind him and sees Hyunjin with two cups of coffee, secured tightly with caps and straws so that it would not spill. As he approaches, Felix furrows, a bit startled by the boy’s sudden appearance. “Hi!” Hyunjin greats the boy, waving his hand welcomingly, and gives Chan his cup of coffee. The latter immediately takes a sip and it tastes awful, as always, but it’s his body that needs caffeine, not him.

Felix smiles and nods, but Chan catches something forced in it, yet decides to brush it off. “Hello,” Felix finally says. He stops for a moment, as if thinking something through, looking further into a gallery. “Would you like me to continue for you and your,” he throws a questioning look at Hyunjin.

“Oh, friend!” Hyunjin exclaims, throwing an arm around Chan’s shoulders.

“You and your friend,” Felix concludes, lips curling at the sides.

“Yeah, friend, right!” Chan elbows Hyunjin in the guts gently. “My bestest buddy,” now he is the one forcing out a smile.

“Let’s go, then,” Felix turns on his heels, moving further into the next hall.

“What did I miss?” Hyunjin whispers and winks.

“Nothing,” Chan barks. “I was hopping you disappeared with your stupid coffee.”

“Hey, you’re the one who brought me there!”

As Chan doesn’t have a proper justification to this fact he just stays silent, eyes glued to Felix’s back.

The next hall is not that different, walls are also painted in slick black colour. Yet this time instead of many screens there is only one, but it’s big and wide, stretching throughout one of the walls. Chan doesn’t catch what is depicted at first, but then it strikes him that it’s the bottom of the ocean. But instead of just fish and marine animals there is a wreckage of and odd-looking construction.

“As you see, it’s a marine snake that crawls through nuclear reactors into a burial chamber,” Felix once again stops near the big screen, gesturing with his hands vividly. “Deep-sea mining companies trawl the ocean floor amid coccolithophore plankton sinking to the bottom, carrying carbon with it. A mirrored black liquid ceiling reflects our actions back to us.”

“Because we’re the cause of that,” Hyunjin says, looking really impressed. No wonder, as Chan knows he’s interested in art for real, unlike him, and also wanted to have this job at some period of time, bringing Chan over at every new exhibition.

“Yes, exactly,” Felix seems to be really glad to tell this to someone more receptive than Chan. “The artist creates the effect of complete immersion in which one witnesses the world that is to come. In the work, they tackle the controversial issue of deep-sea mining, an up-and-coming industry that risks causing an irreversible loss of biodiversity in our oceans. Their poetic compilation of filmed, 3D constructed or acquired visual materials offers a non-linear narrative of intuitive writing while provoking associations far beyond the images themselves.”

“You’re basically drooling,” Hyunjin mutters as Felix is too engaged in explaining.

“Why did I invite you, again?” Chan grits through his teeth, throwing a threatening look. But Hyunjin doesn’t look even a bit scared, smirking down at him.

Oh, to hit that pretty face of his.

“And the next hall is out of my directory, so I have to hand you over to Haseul,” Felix waves at the cute-looking girl standing at the entrance of the next hall. “Hope you enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, hyung enjoyed it a lot,” Hyunjin holds onto his heart in dramatic manner. Once again, Chan is thankful that the room is not properly illuminated as his face flushes again. “We will go, then. Thank you, Felix!” Hyunjin turns around and motions for Chan to follow him. The latter throws a sheepish smile at Felix, feeling quite devastated as he doesn’t exactly comprehend what he should do now. Ask for his number? Just ask him out? Thinking that he would made even more of a fool of himself, his smile falls and he starts turning around to follow Hyunjin.

“Wait, Chan!” Felix yelps as Chan’s back almost faces him. He looks over his shoulder, heart beating fast and violently against his ribcage. Felix looks at him for a long time, lips slightly parted, as he bites down on the lower one. “See you at the lecture tomorrow, right?” His voice sounds rather hopeful, and Chan catches slight redness on his cheeks as he speaks.

Chan smiles, this time genuinely, at last. “Of course,” he hopes the boy hears it as it comes out as a mere whisper. “Can’t wait for that.”

“Cool,” Felix exhales, and with a soft smirk heads back to the first hall.

Chan thinks he can’t fall in love that fast. But for some reason his heart flutters too vigorously.

*

The next morning Chan arrives to class early. Too early, considering the fact that he’s almost always late.

He occupies his usual place at the back, catching startled glances from the students around. Chan lets out a forced smile at them, praying that it’s not obvious that he’s nervous.

And, well, Chan is so nervous that he feels as he dies a little.

He was lying wide awake in his bed this night, trying to put puzzle pieces together and comprehend how exactly he should greet Felix today. They are not exactly friends, but not strangers now either, and he doesn’t know if the boy was even serious about the whole ‘see you tomorrow’ thing, as if he actually wanted to deal with him in the class.

But as he refreshes his social medias for an umpteenth time under thirty minutes, he hears as someone plops in to sit near him. Chan’s breathing stumbles a little as he sees a familiar smile and sight of blonde hair coming into view. Felix looks impeccable, as always, dressed more casually today in contract to his neat clothing in the gallery yesterday, and that makes him look even more tender and soft, as he nearly drowns in his pale-green hoodie. “Good morning, Chan!” He says, placing his backpack in front of him on the table.

“Hi to you too,” Chan mumbles, sad that he doesn’t wear hoodie today to hide his slightly trembling hands.

Stupid habit.

“Aren’t you cold?” Felix asks, observing Chan’s bare arms curiously.

“Nah,” he replies, hugging himself. It’s still early autumn, and Chan is weather beaten, so winds don’t bother him much, especially when they are warm. “It’s really fine, don’t worry.”

Felix snorts at that, pouting cutely. “Lucky you, I’m always freezing.” If Chan could he would probably put him into his pocket so they boy would never feel cold again. “I actually came here to ask you,” he purses his lips. “As you like modern art that much, would you like to visit an exhibition our gallery has on Wednesday? I usually work only on the weekends, but want to see it earlier, and as a spectator.”

Chan blinks rapidly, freezing in his place completely. His lips are parted, and his brain feels like a mush of words and sounds, as he refrains of letting out a screeching noise. So the best his bran comes up with at that precise moment is: “Is it a date?”

Chan hopes that at least he’s smooth.

Felix’s lips twitch, but he still manages to keep calm façade, resting on his elbows. “As you wish, Chan,” he shrugs, eyes practically sparkling with something mischievous, as if he’s up to something. “It’s all about art, after all, right?”

Felix is too smart and Chan is a complete and utter idiot.

“Of course,” he huffs, masking his flushed face as he fixes the beanie on his head. “So excited,” he mumbles, more to himself.

“Great!” Felix exclaims. “I’ll pick you up from your room then,” he throws his backpack over his shoulder in a rush. “See you on Wednesday!”

Chan’s eyes follow him in confusion. “Wait, where are you going? The class starts in ten,” he watches as the boy is standing up from his place.

“I’m a bit busy today,” he replies, sides of his lips curling in a smirk. “If someone asks, tell them I’m feeling sick,” Felix pretends to cough, covering his mouth with one hand, and winks.

“You came here only to tell me about exhibition,” Chan states, not really needing a reply, as he knows. It both scares and excites him, strangely.

“Maybe I did,” he shrugs, and makes a small saluting gesture. “See you!”

Chan watches as the boy makes his way through the loud group of students, gathered somewhere at the back. His moves are as graceful as his features, and once again Chan thinks he’s unable to look away.

“Fuck,” he mutters, covering his face with his hands as it strikes him that he should at least get to know the bare minimum about modern art by Wednesday.

As if he’s not being fool enough.

*

Wednesday comes slow but fast at the same time. Somewhere between classes and projects, Chan finds himself daydreaming right in the library and studio, taking all of his free time to broaden his knowledge of art.

The thing is, Chan is hopeless. He thinks it would be easier for him to learn about laws of quantum physics or evolutionary development principles. But not about art. And he doesn’t want Felix to think that he’s a liar, a liar who was just too in love.

“I mean, he obviously likes you too,” Hyunjin says as they are heading back to their dorms from classes. “Why would he ask you out if he didn’t like you?”

“But he thinks we have same interests,” Chan practically whines, feeling like a little kid, too hysterical to function properly. “And we don’t. Because I lied.”

“I think you’re too dramatic,” Hyunjin replies, patting his back soothingly. “Really, just take it easy.”

If only Chan was capable of doing that.

The clock on his walls almost strikes four, and Chan is pacing through his room unable of being still. His heart pumps, his head is dizzy and his palms are sweating, as he inhales and exhales loudly. It shouldn’t be something serious, or something to worry about. It’s just a stupid crush, right?

Until it isn’t.

The soft knock on the door pulls Chan out of his thoughts as he rushes to open it. Nothing changed much from their Monday encounter, Felix still looks unbelievably soft wearing a white puffy sweater and jeans. His hair is a bit curly today, and Chan supposes it’s their natural state as they look a bit messy, but to the extent where it still looks good. At least it feels like he is, indeed, a human.

Chan gestures for him to come in, greeting him with a nod. “Everything is so black,” Felix says, making his way into the room. He observes the walls and the shelves filled with photos and books with a visible interest, small smile appearing on his face. It makes Chan’s heart swell, but somehow brings him in more confidence.

“We can drink some tea, if you want,” Chan suggests, resting his hands on his hips. “I mean, we have plenty of time and you seem tired.”

“Of course, tea,” Felix says quietly, voice dropping even lower than it usually is. It makes Chan’s guts twist in an unusual way as he grips on his hips tighter not to slip away. “Tea sounds… _good._ ”

“Uhm, yeah,” Chan huffs, eyes trailing somewhere behind Felix’s figure. “Uhm,” he comes closer to the boy, stumbling a bit on his way. Felix faces him fully now, silent question burning in his eyes. “The tea is, uhm,” he nods, pointing at undefined direction. “The tea is behind you,” he wheezes out, with the last traces of voice he has inside.

“Behind me,” Felix repeats, stepping right into Chan’s personal bubble. And Chan feels like he’s suffocating with all the tension, practically unable to release a breath. “You know how tea is actually propagated from seeds and cuttings?” Chan gulps, going completely numb. “To bear a seed they need approximately four to twelve years, can you imagine?” The voice fills his ears, guts, head, heart, everything. “In addition to a zone eight climate, tea plants require at least one hundred and twenty-seven centimeters of rainfall a year and prefer acidic soils. Most of high-quality tea plants are cultivated at elevations of up to—”

Chan doesn’t know what happens, as his heart pumps somewhere low in his stomach and everything seems like a lucid dream, completely far from reality. So the next thing he knows his lips are on Felix’s full ones, and his hands are making their way to his nape, pulling him closer. Chan feels Felix smiling against his mouth, letting out a small sigh as he throws his hands around Chan’s neck. Everything about Felix is soft: his touches, his lips, his hair, but there is also something fierce and vicious with the way he moves, wrecking Chan like an enormous wave, making him kiss back even harder.

Somewhere in between sloppy kisses, soft sighs, and an awkward falling onto the bed Chan comes back to senses, pulling away. “Wait, the exhibition,” he stutters out breathing heavily.

Felix rolls his eyes, hands trailing up and down Chan’s arms. “As if you ever cared about that enough,” he huffs, and crashes their lips together again.

But as much as Chan wants to get lost in the moment, his grains of sanity take over. “But you wanted to go,” he whispers, almost pleadingly.

Felix doesn’t pull back, breath tickling Chan’s lips as they part. “Admit it, you just want to hear me talking smart again.”

“Never denied that,” Chan laughs, nose brushing tenderly against Felix’s cheek. Chan’s inside bubbles with joy, pride, and something sweet, leaving him completely under the spell of the moment.

Felix gets back on his feet, stretching out a hand for Chan. “Well, if you insist.”

“I know nothing about modern art,” Chan admits with a sheepish smile, as he takes the other boy’s hand, standing up.

“Don’t think I didn’t guess that,” Felix replies cupping his cheek. “But kudos for effort.”

And maybe Chan doesn’t like modern art, the more so spending his pastime walking around the galleries filled with abstruse installations and exhibitions. But he, for sure, enjoys the way Felix tells him about them: with bright sparkles in his eyes and soft giggles in between their lips.

**Author's Note:**

> the exhibition i described is a real one which was held in my city! [here you can read/look through the pics](https://blokmagazine.com/en-ua-chambers-of-radiance-by-emilija-skarnulyte-at-pinchukartcentre/) i mixed up some stuff but basically described it the same 
> 
> please [yell at me on twt](https://twitter.com/softouchan)


End file.
